One Mississippi
by wildchild911
Summary: A pratice of becoming patient. rated T for minor swearing.


**I'm only posting some fluff to prove that I still exist . . . sort of. **

**Enjoy~**

There was a subtle breeze, gentle in its leisurely drift as it carried the scent of city and damp pre-thunderstorm throughout silent homes and dark alleyways. Maka wafted the nostalgia as it spread is gentle fingers around her home town.

It was rare to bask in the moment.

She couldn't remember the last time she had a moment to herself. The breeze gathered strength with gusto, causing a chill to spread down Maka's spine. The shiver reminded her to sit upright lest she would be lying on concrete.

She focused on her breathing and the lull of souls pulsating throughout her urban Jungle. She took much delight in counting and separating each essence into different categories. A slow hum of a motorcycle jarred her division; she smiled and drifted into comfortable familiarity. The squeak of an unoiled brake pad, the click of the kickstand, and jingling of keys were registered as her devoted concentration filtered the white noise.

The swear fest from below was a bit more abrupt. A soft giggle managed to sneak through the cracks.

She warned him about the trash can.

She was just about to separate divorcees from jaded single parents when a very worried soul decided to invade her secret base.

She snorted when the door was cussed out, and a sound kick ended the life of an innocent padlock dangling from the handle. Poor thing wasn't even locked. His soul scanned the rooftop, feeling shaky from her disappearing act.

"That wasn't very subtle" she muttered as a flash of lightning tore through incoming clouds, her soul greeting his in mute apology for not leaving a note.

"well, I'm not a very subtle guy" Heaving a sigh of relief, Soul weaved his way through a maze of potted plants, a rot-iron table and chair set, and his wife's carefully created vegetable garden. The bench creaked as Soul found his spot on stiff pine. His hand large and careful as it wound around her waist, the muscles under his jacket constricted as he brought her promptly against his side. His pulse constant as it matched with the melting pot of souls around it, blending with the pulsating life that surrounded them.

The sound she never wanted to stop, the precious metronome of his heartbeat.

"so. . . . . what'd Stein say?" Ah he tensed again, protective as always.

"Everything's fine" That was all she could say, because that was all there was to say. Soul's eyes scanned the city for anything threatening lurking in the shadows. Maka rubbed her eyes into his shoulder, beckoning him to watch the storm. She wouldn't be on the roof if there was a threat; if she hadn't sensed one, why not relax?

Trusting her perception, his shoulders gently sagged; sore and exhausted from his constant surveillance. The only thing he was doing was worrying Maka. The self-inflicted stress regimen that he'd started, the exact moment when she was bouncing around the house with the positive strip in her hand, did nothing but harm him.

"_I just want our freakin' kid out of you as soon as freakin' possible"_ it sounded harsh, but she understood, Stein had vaguely mentioned that expecting mothers were considered five star delicacies to most kishiin.

Not if Soul had anything to say about it.

"Girl or boy?"

"Professor Stein said it's too early to tell and we would find out in a month or two"

A simple grunt and that was that. The two partners were silent as they scanned the approaching storm, the air thick with cool condensation. Makas focus went from the morphing sky to Soul's strong jawline. His grip slacked as he continued to survey the sky, her gaze then drifted down to his hand as his ring caught the flash of encroaching lightning.

"How long have we been married?" Maka snuggled her head closer to his neck, her fingers curling into his free hand.

"7 months, 16 days, 12 hours, 8 minutes, and 46 seconds, why?" Her snort caught his attention. Soul's scowl sank deeper as his wife continued her hushed giggling. Another blade of lighting sliced the sky, his eyes tracing the outline of incoming clouds.

"I'm gonna be a dad"

He was.

"Not a very subtle one either"

And she a mother.

"Bet your ass" His teeth aligning to create the perfect grin.

More giggles bubbled up from both parties while a sweet silence drifted between them again.

"It's funny. . . .-" Soul began as Maka snuggled even closer.

"-That we're going to be parents?" another pregnant pause.

"and _**I'm**_ not _**subtle**_?"

"Soul Eater Evans, so help me I'll use a book, I swear it, and wha-what in Shinigami's name is so funny?" Soul's laughter rang loud and hard as the distant rumble of thunder mixed with it.

"Oh sweet Jesus, your already startin' to sound like a mom" And if it possible he pulled her closer. They turned their attention toward the horizon as more jagged light sliced through the sky. Maka's lungs filled with warmth, comfort, and happiness, as Soul's fingers moved from her side to her shoulder; rubbing up and down out of habit.

A tiny speck of a soul, the fragments that would slowly build and condense to form a complete one; were nestled in her womb, comfortable and taking their sweet time. Her head sunk deeper into his shoulder as Soul kissed her forehead, absently stating that her old room would make a "cool" nursery. She nodded in approval as she resumed her division of east and west Death City.

_On Mississippi_

_**I blame college for the lack of plot bunnies love you guys and stay classy. **_


End file.
